Guts waited alone in a room adjacent to the grand ceremonial hall.He knew the event would go on without him. But even in his fleeting passage, he could feel it —He had made an impact.A small victory. Fleeting, but enough to give him a sliver of pride.
Seated and unmoving, his mind drifted elsewhere.To another time.To faces he would never see again.
Isidro. Casca. Puck. Schierke.And further still: Judeau, Corkus, Pippin.The true brothers-in-arms. The ones who never needed crowns or golden promises to dream.They were never more alive than when they were far from all of this —Far from politics, far from schemes, far from glittering palaces and poison disguised as wine.
That dream… That impossible dream had led them all to ruin.To oblivion.
He shook his head, driving away the shadow of a thought too dark.Not the Eclipse. Not now.Better to remember the moments when their laughter drowned out the flames of battle.
But meditation never lasts long. Not in this world.Reality came knocking once again.
The door opened softly.
Reinhard entered first, followed by Felix, both calm — but clearly here for a reason.Guts didn't even lift his eyes.
Reinhard (composed, as always):"The royal selection has begun, Guts."
Felix (singing, almost teasing):"Guts-kun~ You're Lady Emilia's knight, right? Then let's give it our all, nya~!"
But before Guts could respond, a fourth figure stepped through the door.
Julius:"Forgive the intrusion."
Guts slowly rose, his expression still shadowed.
Guts (coldly):"What the hell do you want?"
Julius (unfazed):"Try not to be so hostile. I wasn't expecting a handshake, but still..."
He paused briefly.
Julius:"You want to know why I'm here? It's simple. I came to see you. I want you to follow me."
The floor changed.Rough stone beneath their boots. A dry wind thick with dust.
Guts looked up.An arena. Circular. Narrow.Built not for spectacle — but for training.For bodies to fall without ceremony.
Around them, the stands were filled.Knights in armor, aligned like statues of war.All watching. Some with curiosity. Others with suspicion.Many smiling, confident in their chosen side.
Guts said nothing. His steps were heavy, unhurried.No glances cast. No nervousness.He walked straight to the center.
He had accepted. He would not retreat.
Across from him, Julius approached — elegant, poised.His uniform immaculate. His posture noble.A knight in all his splendor. The shining ideal of Lugnica.
They stood face to face.Two worlds.Two pasts.Two definitions of the word knight.
The silence deepened.All eyes fixed on them.
Some were sure Julius would win with ease.He was, after all, one of the kingdom's finest — a genius with the sword.But others… others eyed Guts with caution.
Reinhard, silent until now, stepped closer.His gaze flicked between his comrade and the warrior before him.He gently placed a hand on Julius' shoulder — as if to hold him back.
Reinhard:"Julius… you should stop this."
Julius (without turning):"He insulted us. All knights. He tarnished our honor."
Reinhard:"Maybe he went a little too far… but a warning would've been enough."
Julius (his voice firm):"This isn't just about me."
Then, turning to the crowd, he declared loudly:
Julius:"I hereby deliver punishment to this insolent man who disgraced the honor of knighthood!"
The arena roared.Knights stomped in unison. Some raised fists, shouting in support.The air was charged — almost warlike.
Guts, once again, stood alone. Against everyone. Just like always.
Felix, hiding his unease behind a smile, approached Guts holding a wooden training sword in both hands.He offered it to him.
Lightweight. Too light.
Guts took it.Weighed it in his palm. His jaw clenched.
Guts (inner thought):This thing'll break after the first real swing. I'll have to hold back.Shame...
Julius:"Normally, I'd strike you down to defend our honor.But… regrettably, you serve Lady Emilia.So we will duel with wooden swords."
(Pause)
"Shall we begin?"
Guts didn't answer right away.
He let the sword hang loose.Then, slowly and with deliberate calm, he removed his mechanical arm...and let it fall to the ground with a heavy thud.
A hush swept the stands.
The man standing opposite Julius now had only one arm.And yet — he looked even more formidable like this.
A black mountain of a man.Wooden blade in his right hand.His left, severed clean at the elbow.
The contrast was brutal.The size, the presence, the aura — it all tilted to one side.
Guts (deep voice, unwavering):"You sure about this?"
(Pause)
"I might hurt you.And that shiny honor of yours… might take a real beating."
Silence returned.
The duel was about to begin.
And in that silence… Guts was smiling again.